


Losing Control

by Shawarmerei (livefromarkham)



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst?, Anorexia, Gen, Loki Has Issues, Why do I do this to myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 19:43:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livefromarkham/pseuds/Shawarmerei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d called it impeccable self-control. The Midgardians called it anorexia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing Control

**Author's Note:**

> 500-word drabble. Might write more later. Probably won't. Have fun.
> 
> This is what happens when I get inspired and blagh onto a page and then decide it's good enough to post.

It had started in the void during his time with Thanos and the Other. He didn’t have food there. They had never intended to keep him healthy. It was a sharp contrast to the regular feasting of Asgard, and for the first few weeks Loki found that he missed food terribly. But with an immense amount of self-control and maybe a small amount of magic, he was able to ignore it. And when he did, he felt as though he were overcoming Thanos’ plan, and he felt a small surge of power. That, in its own way, kept him from going insane. After he left, although he no longer had to demonstrate his superiority to his “allies,” there was still a feeling he got when he denied sustenance, a feeling of absolute control over the situation. He loved every minute of it.

Of course, when he’d had the Hawk under his control, Barton hadn’t liked it very much. Seeing his master so thin seemed to bother him. So whenever he’d gone out to get food, or had gotten some from someone else, he had always shared with Loki, and he would stay there and stare at him until he was very sure that Loki ate it. The god didn’t like this at all, of course. He was losing control of what little of himself that he had left, and it was throwing him into a panic. Luckily, the Avengers soon defeated him, and he was taken back to Asgard to serve out his punishment for a time.

Then the punishment went further. He was turned human and put into Thor’s custody, then ended up once more on Midgard so he could do penance. He was a wreck. Turning into a mortal had taken its toll on him. Whereas his godlike endurance had sustained him before, he was now near-skeletal and terrifyingly fragile. What hurt the most, though, was that every time Thor looked at him, he looked so sad that Loki didn’t know how to deal with it, as if it was somehow his fault. Maybe earlier he would have blamed Thor for this, but now he wasn’t so sure. All he knew was that his bodily control was the only thing he had left to cling to, and it was slowly killing him. Like the man of iron and his arc reactor, he thought. He had heard about that escapade from the Hawk, who had been told by the Widow. Now it seemed almost poetic. Where his arc reactor had protected him from the scepter, the same weapon was the reason Loki had this problem in the first place.

The first time he fell unconscious, he was attached to a machine and fed through a tube for a week. He was asked about his condition by agents endlessly and they always said the same thing. It was a technical term. He didn’t know what it meant. It didn't matter.

He’d called it impeccable self-control. The Midgardians called it anorexia.


End file.
